


Daddy's Whore

by kansas_byrne



Series: Dean's Collar [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Choking, Collared Dean Winchester, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugged Sex, Evil!John Winchester, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Magic, Not Beta Read, Not Underage, Parent/Child Incest, Parent/Child Rape, Prequel, Rape, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 04:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13896627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kansas_byrne/pseuds/kansas_byrne
Summary: Sam found Dean tied up and prostituting his ass for their father.... but how did that start?





	Daddy's Whore

The werewolf fight had been a disaster, and John blamed Dean for it. They stayed in a hotel for a few days to heal, but for most of it, Dean was on his own. John went out every night and came back late, mostly drunk and belligerent. Dean was a failure, John would remind him. A failure who had almost gotten them both killed. 

Three days after, Dean came out of the shower to find his father back early, with a six pack of beer. While he put toweled off and put on a pair of jeans, John opened one for him.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he said quietly, passing the bottle over. “It wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing that there would be another one. I’m sorry for the way things have been.” 

Dean smiles hesitantly and shrugs, “Not a big deal,” He drinks half the beer in one go and sits in the chair. John is watching him closely, and he quirks an eyebrow. 

“Dad?” Dean starts to ask, but his body is getting heavy, and he can’t quite get most of the word out. Panicked, he tries to get up, but his legs won’t obey him.

John sighs. “Venom. I got it from a hunt a while back. It will paralyze you, but your automatic functions will still work. They use it so their victims will feel it as they get eaten, but I have a different use.” 

He locks the door. “I haven’t lost my mind. I mean, I don’t think I have. It just occurred to me one day that you, my boy, could put an end to some of the hustling I have to do to put food on the table. I thought of it earlier, but you were so young.” 

John shrugs apologetically. “Well, I had morals.”

He walks behind Dean and starts doing something over at the beds. Dean can hear rustling and some metal-on-metal noises, and then he’s being hauled upwards, John grunting under the weight of him. When he’s swung around, he can see the beds. John’s set up a foam wedge in the middle of one, and on the other is a small pile of leather and metal. He tries hard to make his muscles,  _ any _ muscles, move, but it’s no good. John bends him over the wedge and starts to take off his pants. 

“You really are gorgeous, Dean. Cock sucking lips, I think one friend of mine said. He’s not wrong. If you knew how many times I jacked off thinking about them…” He pulls down Dean’s underwear, and gets everything off. Despite not being able to move, Dean can feel everything, and the air is cold on his legs. 

John arranges Dean so he’s on his knees, ass up over the wedge, thighs spread wide, and a pillow to hold his chest and head up on the other side. Dean makes a tiny distressed noise in the back of his throat, a pleading whine. His breath is coming quick and hard with his panic. Every cell in his body wants to run, but he can’t move, he can’t make his body  _ work _ . His father is going to...he can’t, he just can’t.

John chuckles. “So you can make noise. I wondered.” 

His hands roam all over Dean’s body, fondling his balls, his thighs, his ass. John pushes one finger into his hole. It hurts and he makes another whining noise. He removes his hand and moves around to the front of the bed. Somewhere in all this, he’s taken off his clothing, and Dean didn’t notice. His father’s cock is hard as a rock. 

John gets onto the bed, kneeling in front of Dean’s face. Gently, he picks up his son’s head and forces his jaw open. “I’m not going to lie, Dean. I’m going to fuck your face, so remember to get air when you can.”

He sucks air in as quickly as he can just before John pushes his cock into Dean’s unwilling mouth, inch by inch, slowly and inevitably into his throat until he bottoms out with a low groan. Dean is choking, trying to breathe but unable to get anything. The cock is so big, so absolute, he can’t get around it or away from it. Just as his vision starts to grey out around the edges, John pulls all the way out again, letting Dean get air, and then back in, quicker this time. He stays until Dean nearly passes out, and then pulls out just enough. He pauses, letting Dean gasp. 

“Now,” John says, and then starts fucking Dean’s throat, setting up a punishing rhythm, holding onto his hair and using Dean like a doll.There’s nowhere to run, he can’t move, he can’t breathe, he can’t stop it. John grunts and pushes balls deep into Dean’s throat, and then he’s drowning in come, never ending pulses of hot release as his father calls him a whore over and over. He blacks out.

When he wakes up, he is bound. He can feel the leather holding his arms behind his back, the straps around his thighs, the gag holding his mouth open. He still can’t move, but he wonders if the venom will wear off soon. His ass feels...slippery. 

“You’re back with us,” John says behind him. Dean can hear the alcohol in his voice and it chills him to the bone. He wonders how drunk his father actually is right now. “ I took the time to open you up while you were asleep. I am not taking care of you if you get hurt, so..” 

The bed dips as John climbs up behind him. Dean can feel the press of a cockhead against his ass. “Your pretty mouth took the edge off. This will take a lot longer.” 

  Dean’s asshole opens for his father’s cock so easily. He pushes and pushes until he bottoms out, grunting in satisfaction. He rocks back and forth, kneading Dean’s ass and holding it open. Dean imagines him looking at how stretched his hole is around his cock, watching it slide back and forth. Finally, he drapes himself over Dean and fucks him gently, kissing the back of his neck and whispering slurred tender words. 

He picks up the pace soon, getting harder and bigger as he does, sweet kisses and tenderness giving way to snarling as he gets closer. Soon the only noises in the room are the filthy wet slapping noises and Dean’s sobbing. John comes violently, his hips flush against Dean’s ass, and then pulls out abruptly. 

“You have a customer,” he says. 

As John gets dressed, Dean keeps trying to move his arms, his face, anything. The venom is wearing off, but slowly, and it’s aggravating. Still, maybe if he has a few more minutes, he can move and then he can escape.

His hopes are dashed as John comes back from the bathroom and grabs Dean’s head, force feeding him another drop of venom. “Can’t have you leaving. Your ass is going to pay for our hotel room.” 

There’s a knock on the door, and John opens it. There’s a quiet conversation, and then he hears his father say, “There’s only one rule. Don’t hurt him permanently.” Then the door closes. Dean’s heart feels too small for his chest as it beats faster and harder. 

A deep voice says, “look at this little fucking whore, all trussed up for me. Leaking come, no less. Now, your daddy says you can’t move. Let’s see if that’s true.” 

The man unbuckles his belt, and Dean can hear him sliding it out of the jean loops. He folds it, and snaps both halves together. Dean tries not to whine, but he can’t think anymore. The man laughs, bringing the belt down hard on one ass cheek, then the other. Dean tries to stay stoic and quiet, not to give this sadist asshole the satisfaction, but he does it again, and again and again, and he rips the scream right out of Dean’s throat. It’s a high, thin thing; he’s unable to open his mouth wide enough, but it’s raw and primal. 

He’s hazy from then out, but he’s sure that the man is there for hours, torturing him and then fucking him. The venom wears off again before he’s done, but Dean hangs limply from his grasp without a fight; he’s simply too tired. Unfortunately, once the venom wears off, he’s capable of making a real scream, which delights his tormentor, and it starts all over again. Dean passes out completely as he’s being fucked for the third time. 

When he wakes up, he’s cold. He can move, which is a relief. Slowly, things start to resolve themselves. He’s naked, and in the bathtub. He’s been washed. He’s also wearing a collar around his neck. Getting up, he staggers to the sink. Everything hurts, and his ass feels as if it’s on fire. The mirror shows a vision of himself that he has a hard time accepting; he’s bruised everywhere, including his face. Around his neck is a leather collar with symbols etched into the leather. Not seeing a buckle in the front, he feels around to the back. Nothing. Frantically, he tries to pull on it, but it won’t budge. The symbols glow blue, and he feels a sudden jolt of pain, jerking his hands away. After a moment, he tries it again, getting a harder shock. He grips the edge of the sink with trembling hands, and rests his forehead against the cold mirror. 

“It’s been spelled,” John says from the door, making him jump. “You can’t remove it. It can incapacitate you as well, should you try to run. Get on your knees.” 

Dean stares at him and doesn’t move. John smiles. It isn’t a very nice smile, and Dean swallows hard, but stares at him defiantly. John says a word, and it slides around in Dean’s head -- he can’t remember it, and trying to think about it makes his brain ache. The collar glows, and he’s suddenly wracked with pain, as if all his nerves had caught fire, and he screams, arching his back and clawing at his body. 

The pain is gone as suddenly as it came, and John says quietly, “on your knees.” 

Dean lunges for John,only to be brought up short by the pain again. This time it’s worse, invading his mind, his very cells. His body seizes, locking in place until it’s done. Dimly, he realizes that it was longer. 

“Knees, Dean. Get on your knees.” John’s voice is a little unsteady, his breath heavy. 

Dean drops to his knees. “Now, suck me off.” John unbuckles his pants and drops them to his knees, sliding his boxers down. He is rock hard and leaking. 

Dean hesitates, and is hit with the pain again. He falls to the floor, writhing in agony, wetting himself and clawing at his own skin. When there isn’t enough breath left to scream with, the pain ceases abruptly. He lets out a long weak sob. John steps out of his jeans and kneels on the floor, straddling Dean’s body. 

“Dean, the more you resist, the worse this will get. Open your mouth.” John inches his way up until his thighs are on either side of Dean’s head. Dean opens his mouth, and John pushes his cock into it with a pleased sigh.

He thrusts slowly in and out of Dean’s mouth for a while, and then pulls out, getting up and hauling Dean up to his knees again. “Now, suck. Me. Off.” he growls. 

Dean wraps his mouth around his father’s cock, and John hums happily. “That’s good. Now use your tongue. Run it up and down the shaft while you suck. Good. Good boy.” 

As he follows his father’s directions, a gentle tingling sensation shivers through his body, making his nipples and cock harden slowly. His father runs his hands through Dean’s hair, thrusting into his mouth, and a burst of pleasure runs through his own body, making his cock throb. John pushes further into Dean’s mouth, and they both groan at the same time. The magic sensation pulses through him, and when his father pushes all the way into Dean’s throat and comes, Dean follows him helplessly, coming and coming all over the floor. 

John pulls out of Dean’s mouth and crouches down so that they are eye to eye. “Now, you’re going to make me a lot of money with your whore ass, Dean. The more you defy me, the worse the pain gets. I’ll help you out. I know how you can’ t help yourself, so I’ll tie you down when you service people, but I will fuck you up in private if you disobey me. You felt how nice it can be. That’s only with me. You won’t be able to come with anyone else… the collar chose me, and you will do what I want. And Dean…”

John leans forward and whispers in Dean’s ear, “I will hurt you and fuck you anyway. So be good.”

Dean nods dumbly, looking at the mess on the floor. Sammy. Maybe if he can call Sammy, his brother will help him. 

John smiles and straightens up. “Now. Let's get you back on that bed. You have a whole night of customers to get through.” 


End file.
